In the poem though, Blakes despair is growing more and more with each and very tear he sheds. The hyperbole continue with I told my wrath, my wrath did end. and I told it not, my wrath did grow. Wrath is something inside a person that cannot be grow like a tree. It is an emotion that people cannot always control. In the poem, Blake is showing that he can control it but in reality he cannot. That was the start of the anger to his friend. Last but not least, the way he grows the tree is a strong hyperbole to the way people do normally.
And I sunned it with smiles and And with soft deceitful wiles. in line seven and line eight of stanza two, it described the way the author grow his anger and wrath. Trees should be grown in mud but Blakes tree was bombastically grown in soft deceitful wiles which is impossible to happen in real life. The anger of him was becoming more and more. William Blake does a masterful job of comparing the growth of a tree in garden to the growth in life. Unfortunately the tree that Blake is growing is a poison tree . If thrives on the anger and wrath of a friend, rather than on the love that should be considered. Most things grow better with love.